


the fight from the kid

by thingsyoumissed (orphan_account)



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M, Movie Reference, Multi, Muteness, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thingsyoumissed





	the fight from the kid

**ONE**

Spencer doesn't want to admit it, but there's a part of him that hopes beyond the telling of it that having sex with Brendon will bring his voice back, like in some futuristic sci-fi romance novel or maybe a Wong Kar-wai movie. (Spencer has never seen a Wong Kar-wai movie in his life, but he reads about them in the magazines Jon buys, and he plans on watching _2046_ as soon as he can find a copy.) Brendon's not hard to convince; all Spencer has to do is reach out and touch Brendon's throat, then lean in and kiss him hard, hoping that maybe there's some part of his brain that will click back on if he just lets go _enough_ , lets Brendon bliss him out beyond compare. Like he'll be fixed if he gives in to the kind of toe-curling, heart-pounding lust he usually tries to steer himself away from. 

It doesn't happen. He wakes up the next morning with Brendon passed out on top of him, his face squished against Spencer's neck, and when Spencer shoves at him and opens his mouth to say _get off of me, you idiot_ , nothing comes out. And Brendon just kind of makes the snuffling noise he always does in his sleep and settles back down against him. Spencer sighs, long and hard, and thinks that at least the breath leaving his mouth has sound. 

He's not in love with Brendon, but he doesn't think that matters. If being with someone he was in love with would bring his voice back, he would have been cured the first night back in Vegas with Haley, her fingertips trailing over his throat, his hands on her hips as she moved against him. "I just don't understand," she'd whispered, and Spencer had shaken his head and kind of shrugged, because he didn't understand it either. 

He goes to a few specialists, with Ryan in tow, and they're all baffled. One suggests it's psychological and recommends he see a therapist, and Ryan's eyes nearly fall out of his head. "Are you having some other issues you're not telling me, dude?" he whispers to Spencer as they leave the clinic. Spencer shakes his head. He doesn't think he has any more mental problems than your average slightly famous rock band drummer. He hits things for a living, it's an excellent way to relieve stress. 

In the car, he fishes a napkin out from between the seat and the door. _It's not like I could talk about my issues anyway, because I can't fucking TALK_ , he writes. Ryan snorts and starts the engine. 

 

**TWO**

The first time Jon was in Vegas as a member of the band, Spencer took him to his grandmother's house. Stood in the living room and said, "This is where we started," and watched Jon look at everything, walk back and forth from the kitchen to the back wall, sit on the couch. After a few minutes, Jon had looked up at him, smiling so hard the corners of his eyes crinkled up, and said "Cool."

This is what Spencer remembers as he sits in his own living room, in his empty house that he's bought but has barely lived in, as the rest of the band does an interview without him. When it's over, Brendon calls, breathless and full of stupid stories about the inane questions, and talks for a full five minutes before stopping. It's like any other phone call with Brendon, who sometimes has to be allowed to talk until he's _done_ , and Spencer almost forgets there's no sound coming out when he says _uh-huh_ and _mm-hmm_ at the appropriate places. 

Then Brendon says, "Can I come over?" and Spencer has to use the 'one for yes, two for no' tongue-clicking system. And Brendon asks him more than once if he's sure, which is annoying, and then says "great, I'll be there in a few" and Spencer figures he should probably put some pants on. 

*

Brendon shows up, takes one look at him, and drags him to the couch. Spencer finds himself wrapped in Brendon before he can shove him away. He still tries, but Brendon is nothing if not insistent, and when Spencer finally stops elbowing him and settles on the meanest glare he can manage, Brendon smiles. "Hi, Spence," he says and kisses his cheek. 

Then he picks up Spencer's phone and calls Haley while Spencer scrubs at his face. Just because he slept with Brendon two weeks ago doesn't mean Brendon is allowed to kiss him. "Lee, you should come over to Spencer's, he's being uncooperative." There's a pause, in which Brendon yelps because Spencer's pinching him, and then he says, "Okay, see you then!" and he drops the phone and pushes his hand against Spencer's face. "Stop glaring at me like that, dude."

Spencer really, really wants to tell Brendon he's going to kill him. Slowly and painfully. Because you don't just show up at someone's house and then call up their girlfriend and say they're being _uncooperative_ after you tried to molest them. But he can't, and they both know it, so he settles for more pinching. But Brendon still doesn't let go of him, all the way up to the second the doorbell rings. Brendon leaps off the couch and confers with Haley for a few seconds in the doorway while Spencer opens his mouth and shouts soundlessly at them, because this is _not his life_. 

Haley walks over and kisses him; he melts immediately and kisses back, kind of glad she's there to save him from Brendon's hug therapy. But then she says, "Be glad people want to hang out with your sad ass," and she and Brendon curl around him, not letting go, while Spencer aims his best, most pleading expression in her direction. She kisses him again, laughing. Brendon picks up the remote and they watch bad daytime television without talking until the sun goes down, and Spencer tightens his arms around Haley's waist and falls asleep on Brendon's shoulder.

 

**THREE**

_It was kinda weird_ , he texts to Ryan. 

"I think you're weird," Ryan replies, picking up his guitar. "It's not like, jeez, Spencer, it's not like they took your clothes off or anything."

_shut up_. This is accompanied by a glare.

Ryan looks back at him over his shoulder, his hair covering most of his face, but Spencer can still read his expression. "Tell me you didn't."

_NO!!!! wtf?_ , he types, and wow, his heart didn't just start beating faster. 

"I'm just saying," Ryan mutters with a shrug, and sets his phone down so that he can start tuning up. 

Spencer texts _you better not write a song about this_ , then stuffs the phone in his pocket and digs through the bucket of sticks for a pair of coin brushes. Ryan reads the message and laughs, then asks "You ready?" and Spencer kicks the bass in reply. 

Later that afternoon, he buys _2046_ and hates it, but ends up having dreams about taking a slow train into a strange future to find out if his voice is still lost. As if it was something he had left behind, somewhere. 

 

**FOUR**

The last city he'd been able to talk in was New Orleans, but he couldn't remember anything different about that night; it had been like every other night in the seemingly endless string of shows. He'd fallen asleep in the lounge talking to Haley, then when he'd woken up stiff and aching from the weird way he'd slumped on the couch, he'd crawled into his bunk and immediately gone back to sleep. They hadn't even been in Louisiana anymore when he'd been woken up by Jon waving a cup of coffee under his nose. "Thanks," Spencer had said, but there'd been no sound. 

Jon had raised his eyebrows. "Dude, how much weed did you smoke last night?" He hadn't at all, and shook his head emphatically. Jon had shrugged. "Huh."

*

They're a week and three days into the three week break, and Spencer has seen every ear, nose and throat doctor in half of Nevada. _I'm done_ , he texts to Haley. _No more doctors_.

_Still nothing?_ she writes back.

_No fucking clue. come over?_

_Can't, stupid work,_ she writes, then _try Bden_ , and Spencer frowns at the screen. There is definitely something weird going on.

He texts _come over NOW_ to Brendon, then finds a blank piece of paper and a pen and writes down everything he thinks he might want to say. This includes things such as _What did you ~~do~~ SAY to my girlfriend? You can't just DO THAT without TELLING ME_ and _Just because we slept together doesn't mean ~~I need you~~ your hug therapy will work_ and _I am so fucking angry right now, this SUCKS_. 

The doorbell rings. Spencer opens the door and shoves the paper in Brendon's face without even letting him inside. Then he closes the door again, and waits for Brendon to either leave or ring the bell again. Five minutes pass with nothing and then he hears soft knocking, and Brendon's voice. "Spence? Can I come in or should I, uhm, just go home?"

Spencer hesitates, but opens the door.

 

**FIVE**

Brendon looks pale and kind of wilted in the afternoon light, which strikes Spencer as odd. "I'm sorry," Brendon says, rubbing his hand through his hair, making it stick up in weird places. "I just want you to be better."

Spencer sighs and points at himself, then holds up two fingers. Brendon nods. "I guess you want to know what I said to Haley," he continues. 

That's the thing. Spencer hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, no matter where he is or who he's with. It's been like a news crawl in his head, constantly running possibilities. But while he'd been writing down all his frustration to shove at Brendon, he'd realized that no, he really didn't want to know. It wasn't worth knowing. Because there wasn't anything wrong with it that he had to fix. Haley and Brendon were the same as they'd always been with one another, no one was fighting, and no one was mad. Except Spencer. 

And when it came down to it, he was more mad about losing his voice than he was about how comfortable it had felt to lay between them on the couch, how easy it had been to accept their soft touches, Brendon's face pressed against the back of his neck and Haley's against his throat. How hard it had been to breathe. 

He takes the paper from where it's crumpled in Brendon's hand and writes _I'm the one who's sorry - I was just raging against myself - I think_ , and holds it up.

Brendon squints at it, then hugs him. "We're cool?" he whispers in Spencer's ear, and Spencer nods. Still holding on to Brendon, he pulls out his phone and calls Haley. Brendon will have to do the talking, but they're okay, they're _good_. 

*

Somehow they've ended up on the living room floor, on the huge comforter from Spencer's bed, which Haley had insisted on when they'd slid from the couch to the carpet. "The rug is kinda itchy, Spence," she'd said with a shrug, "and the comforter smells like you." He'd grinned and leaned in to kiss her furiously blushing cheek, and she'd whispered in his ear, "Sometimes I sleep here when you're gone, you know?" 

Spencer's sprawled on it now, arms and legs stretched out, flip-flops kicked off. He's watching Brendon and Haley inch toward each other, and they keep glancing at him. It would be kind of funny, if he didn't want to see them kiss this instant. He sighs loudly and reaches up to shove Brendon's shoulder, touches first Brendon's lips, then Haley's. She smiles and he knows she got the message. Brendon still looks slightly confused, and Haley slides her hand around the back of his neck, and pulls his mouth to hers. 

Spencer feels kind of like the breath has been knocked out of him, watching. There's part of him, the possessive part, that's a little bit jealous. But there's a bigger part of him that is really, really turned on. He _wants_ to share, and it hits him hard. Brendon and Haley move apart, breathing heavily, and Spencer pulls Haley into his arms, her back against his chest, and slides his hands over her stomach underneath her sweatshirt. She arches in his grasp to kiss his neck, and Brendon's hands brush over his, pushing her shirt up a little. Spencer curls his fingers over Brendon's for a moment, and then Brendon leans down to lick the upper curve of Haley's hip, slowly and delicately. 

Spencer slides out from behind her, laying down, his heart pounding wildly and his mouth dry, and presses a wet kiss to her side. She reaches down and unbuttons her jeans, and Brendon slides them off. "You, too," he says to Spencer. Spencer rolls his eyes and wiggles out of his track pants, then gestures at Brendon, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, we have _all night_ ," Brendon says, leaning over to kiss him. His mouth tastes like the vanilla lattes Haley had brought for them, and Spencer concentrates on sucking the flavor off Brendon's tongue until he moans and pulls back. 

Spencer looks at Haley, who's flushed and watching them with interest. "You could do that again," she says, nodding, and her hand tightens on his thigh when they do.

Spencer points at Brendon and then her, then leans into Brendon again, sucking his lower lip between his teeth, making sure Brendon understands, until Brendon gasps and he hears Haley's soft whimper, thinking that he'd never paid this much attention to the noises either of them made before. He feels almost dizzy, overcome, and doesn't know if he wants to watch or to touch. 

Watch first, he decides, as Brendon presses a kiss to Haley's neck. 

He slips one hand between Haley's legs, sliding his fingers underneath the hiphuggers she's wearing, tugging them out of the way. Brendon moves slowly down Haley's body, touching lightly as he goes. Spencer can read the hesitation in the set of his shoulders. He rubs high on Brendon's cheekbone with his thumb, making the red spot even redder, and pushes Brendon's head between Haley's thighs. 

*

He wakes up later to Haley's mouth on his neck. "Shower?" she whispers, and he nods. Brendon has rolled to the edge of the blanket and he doesn't move as Spencer pulls Haley to her feet. They head for the shower, not bothering with clothes just to walk up the stairs , and Haley checks out the hickey on her chest in the mirror as he starts the water. "I don't even know which one of you did it," she says, a little sheepishly, and Spencer moves her hair out of the way and kisses underneath her ear. He wants to ask if she's okay - she seems okay, but he knows how easy it is to be freaking out on the inside and look perfectly fine on the outside. 

There's steam starting to cloud the mirror, so he leans over the counter and writes _you ok?_ in big letters. 

Haley turns and slips her arms around his neck. "Me? I'm good." Spencer pokes the mark on her chest gently, raising his eyebrows. "I swear, Spence. It's all okay," she says, tugging him into the shower. _I don't want this to be weird_ , he wants to say. _I don't know if I want this to just be a one-time thing._

She's good at reading him, though, and after he washes her hair, she pinches his hip. "Look," she says firmly. "I knew what I was doing, and so did you, and so did Brendon. I don't plan on running off with him. And, you know, I love you even if you never talk again." 

Spencer sighs and pulls her close under the warm spray; she kisses him and reaches out with both their hands to draw a heart in the steam on the shower door. 

 

**SIX**

His voice comes back the first night on the tour. He's buttoning his shirt when Jon sneaks up behind and tackles him, and "what the fuck, Jon, my shirt!" comes out of his mouth, dry and scratchy, and everyone stops what they're doing and looks over. Spencer inhales sharply, almost nauseous for a moment, but the feeling passes swiftly and he's left with cool relief. 

"Excellent," Jon says, and slaps him on the shoulder. Spencer opens and closes his mouth a few times, working his tongue around.

"The first thing you say in weeks, and it's some bitching about your shirt?" Ryan asks. "Jesus, Spencer," but he's grinning. 

"My buttons," Spencer protests, coughing slightly. Brendon steps into his line of sight, doing his vocal warm-ups, and does up the buttons for him quickly and precisely. "Thanks," he whispers. Brendon rubs his thumb over the corner of Spencer's mouth, smiles, and slides back over towards the door, still singing. 

"Ready?" Zack calls, and they all move. 

He leans in close to Zack's ear. "Could you call Haley for me?" he asks. "I don't want her to wait to know." Zack nods. Through the door, Spencer can hear the noise, the thousand voices as one endless roar. He shakes out his arms, bumps fists with Ryan. "How's this for therapy?" he shouts, because he _can_. Then they're heading for the stage and the blood is rushing in his ears, and if this - all of this - is his strange future, he's in, he's all in.


End file.
